Waking Up Alone
by smacky30
Summary: Tyria issued a challenge for washing machine smut a while back. This is what I came up with. GSR of course!


Title: Waking up Alone

Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were though.

A/N: Thanks to Cropper for the quick beta. She's the best - I swear.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked from her position in the doorway. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were still soft with sleep. She had stumbled barefooted out of the bedroom in her panties and the tank top she slept in. She hated to wake up alone, even though she'd never admit it. So when she found Grissom absent from their bed she had gone looking for him.

Standing in front of the washing machine in a t-shirt and boxers, Grissom glanced over his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in her rumpled appearance, and replied, "Laundry?"

When he turned to continue feeding clothes into the machine Sara took a moment to appreciate the flex of the muscles in his forearms, surprised at the frisson of sweet, hot lust running through her veins. She crossed the short distance to stand behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. After nuzzling the back of his neck, she propped her chin on his shoulder and stared into the washer while the steam from the hot water rose up around them. Sara was very particular about the way things were sorted and Grissom had learned quickly to leave that to her; especially after he turned her favorite pink top orange. She relaxed a little when she saw that he was shoving towels into the soapy depths of the tub.

Satisfied that he had enough in the load, Grissom closed the lid on the washer. When Sara continued to stand behind him, effectively holding him in place, he leaned his head against hers and said, "Do you want some coffee?"

"No," she murmured as her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt to rest against the soft skin of his abdomen.

"Toast? Eggs? Cereal?"

Each question received that same soft answer while her fingers began to stroke slowly against his warm flesh. Sara slid a hand under the waistband of his boxers and began toying with the soft curls she found under the fabric. A quiet groan escaped Grissom's throat as one cool hand wrapped around his burgeoning erection while the other slipped down to cup his balls.

Grissom's voice was choked when he said, "Sara?"

"Hmmmmmm?"

"I…oh shit…," he stammered as her thumb brushed across the head of his penis. "What…um…what do you want…for…um…breakfast?"

With a throaty chuckle, Sara said, "You." Giving him a gentle squeeze, she pulled her hands from his boxers and slid them slowly upward until his shirt was bunched around his chest. "Lift," she instructed, tugging the shirt over his head when he obediently raised his arms.

"Honey…," Grissom said, his voice trailing off when he heard the shushing sound Sara made.

Dropping the garment on the dryer, she took a moment to admire the broad plane of his back, the play of muscles under his skin as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Sara smiled as she ran her palms over his love handles. They caused him no small amount of embarrassment but she found them incredibly cute and oddly sexy. Her eyes moved over the smooth line of his spine and she rested her thumbs in the dimples just above his sweet, round behind. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head between his shoulder blades. Inhaling the scent that was pure Grissom, she purred.

Grissom braced his hands against the washer and gave a low moan when Sara began placing wet kisses over his shoulder blades. Her mouth left a trail of heat over his back while her hands moved across his chest. His breath hissed in through his teeth as her fingernails flicked over his nipples. He could feel her triumphant grin against his back.

"Why don't we take this into the other room?" Grissom's voice was low and gravelly, laced with desire.

With a quiet uh-uh, Sara dropped to her knees behind him. Holding him in place when he would have turned, she began working his boxers off his hips with deliberate slowness, trailing light kisses over the flesh being exposed to her. As the soft fabric pooled around his ankles, Sara sat back on her heels and used both hands to caress Grissom's firm cheeks. There were days she still marveled at the fact that she could do this; that she could touch him, make love to him. On her knees, she ran one hand around his hip and wrapped it around his hardness before beginning to stroke slowly, deftly up and down his length. Leaning forward, she sank her teeth into the firm muscles of his ass, biting just hard enough to elicit a grunt of pleasure, before soothing the spot with her tongue and lips. Sara spent long minutes nipping and kissing every inch of him she could reach, loving the way his cock twitched in her hand while he pressed his ass back against her mouth. She ran her tongue along that sensitive strip of skin where his smooth cheek met his thigh, taking delight in hearing her name released on a tortured breath.

The need to taste Grissom, to slide her tongue along the velvet length of him, was overwhelming. Grissom was a kaleidoscope of taste and texture, an ever changing landscape set out for her pleasure. And she intended to take all he had to offer. Sara once again sat back on her heels, relishing his quiet groan of disappointment at the loss of contact. Guiding him with her hands on his hips, she murmured, "Turn around."

Grissom turned, stepping out of his underwear and brining his hardness to within inches of her face. Sara reached out and wrapped her slim fingers around his cock, marveling at the way it jutted out proudly from its nest of curls. His skin was hot and soft around the steel of his erection and Sara wanted to feel it against her tongue. She wanted to scrape her teeth over the purple tip. Before she could take him into her mouth Grissom's big hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her to her feet.

"Sara, love, let's take this to bed," Grissom said in a voice roughened by desire as his hands slid around to cup her ass and bring her hard against him.

With a devilish grin and a saucy shake of her head, Sara mumbled a decisive no against his lips. She kissed him; her tongue sliding between his teeth to stroke the inside of his mouth. She rocked her hips forward, loving the feel of his hard cock pressing against her belly. The velvet heat of him seemed to burn through the little clothing she was wearing and straight into her soul.

Grissom tore his lips from hers and began tracing a path along her collar bone. Sara's hands were threaded through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. Her nipples were pressing against the soft material of her shirt and she could feel the wet heat between her thighs. It would be so easy to let him lead her back to bed but she wanted to pleasure him, needed to do something to let him know how much she loved him. This was about giving to him without asking for anything in return.

She tugged at his hair until he raised his head and met her gaze. Normally the blue of the Caribbean ocean, his eyes were almost black with desire. For a moment she was struck speechless by the depth of the emotions, by the raw longing she found swirling there. Sara hoped that he could see the same thing on her face. Pulling him down to her, she placed another long, sweet kiss on his mouth before pulling out of his embrace.

"Have a seat," she said. Grissom's confusion was evident in the narrowing of his eyes and the way he looked around as if expecting a chair to miraculously appear. "On the washer silly," Sara teased. When he continued to stand there, she asked, "Do you trust me?"

With a nod and a raised eyebrow, he complied. When his bare skin met the cool metal of the machine Grissom's sucked air between his teeth. "Cold," he yelped, eliciting a grin from Sara.

Sara stepped forward to stand between his knees. Holding his gaze, she feathered her fingers over his chest, stopping to scratch gently over his nipples or to circle his belly button. She brushed her palms over his sides, along his hips and down the outsides of his thighs. Her mouth traced a leisurely path over his chest. She sucked gently on his nipples before nipping them with her teeth. Hands moving up and down the tops of his thighs, Sara reveled in the feel of the crisp hair against her palms. Sara used her hands and mouth, her throaty voice and sexy words to tease Grissom to the breaking point. When he was mumbling mindlessly, she braced one hand on his thigh and wrapped her other around his throbbing shaft. Bending, she placed a soft kiss on the very tip of his cock. Grissom's hips bucked and he braced himself on his palms, giving Sara unrestricted access to his hardness.

Sara nuzzled her face against him, breathing in Grissom. He smelled of soap and clean sweat and hot arousal and she could feel her clit throb at the combination. She ran her tongue along the crease of his upper thighs because she knew how sensitive those areas were. Sara pressed his erection against his stomach and ran her tongue over his scrotum before gently sucking on the furry skin. Slowly, she slid her tongue up the length of him before taking him between her lips. She held him in her mouth sucking rhythmically as her heart pounded between her legs. Then she began to move. Her head moved up and down, taking him in as far as she could before pulling back to the very tip. She used her tongue to tease the most sensitive spot – flicking and circling in direct response to Grissom's moans.

Sara had just begun moving her hand up and down in time with her mouth when the washer's spin cycle started. Grissom went crazy. She had heard stories about women using the spin cycle for pleasure but she thought they were just stories. But when the vibrations started Grissom's disjointed moans became a litany of need.

Grissom had never felt anything quite like what he was experiencing. The cool metal had warmed underneath him. Sara's mouth and hands were closed around him like a hot, wet glove. And the vibrations from the washer were shooting through his balls and massaging his prostate. He knew that he wouldn't last more than another few seconds and tried to tell Sara. Although they had engaged in oral sex before, she had never taken him to orgasm that way and he didn't want her to be caught unaware. However, when he tried to tug her off his cock she reached up and squeezed his hand in silent acknowledgement.

Sara knew that Grissom was close to release. She knew that with a few more well timed licks and a hint more suction she could push him over that edge. And that knowledge had her embarrassingly aroused. She released her hold on his thigh and slid her hand into her panties, marveling at how wet she was. Her fingers found her clit and she began rubbing tight little circles over the nub. With each pass of her fingertips she let a low groan escape her throat.

"Sara," Grissom groaned, "I'm..ohmygod..I'm.."

Through the haze of arousal, Sara heard and understood. She increased her pace, hand and mouth working in furious tandem. The hand dancing over her pussy became more concentrated in an effort to orgasm when Grissom did. He gave a guttural cry and his cock began to throb against her tongue. Sara felt the first hot spurt against her throat and tried vainly to take it all. As the second pulse exploded in her mouth her muscles began to contract in a powerful orgasm that threatened to make her knees buckle.

She stayed there for a few moments, her head resting on his thigh, her breath coming in heaving gasps. Grissom's hand in her hair tugged her head up and he used his discarded shirt to clean her face. When she would have taken it to clean her hand, he caught her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth, tasting her. Sara pressed her lips to his cheek in a lingering caress and was surprised when Grissom turned his head and captured her mouth with his. His hands came up to cup her cheeks and he kissed her thoroughly.

Pulling away and resting his forehead against hers, he said, "Sara, my love, you are more than I deserve. You make me so very happy."

With a smile, Sara replied, "Ditto."


End file.
